


something different

by ultraviolence



Category: HELIOS Rising Heroes (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Birthday Fluff, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, casual affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27894826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultraviolence/pseuds/ultraviolence
Summary: "Old habits die hard, Brad thought to himself, the older they are and the longer they had been in your life, the harder they go."Keith's birthday rolls around, and Brad prepared to do what he always does, every year without fail. Except this time, Keith had something else in mind.
Relationships: Keith Max/Brad Beams
Kudos: 6





	something different

The date had been marked on his calendar, not just the one he had on both his personal and work phones, not to mention the tablet that he mostly used for work, but on a physical one that he still owned, too, in his personal room, tacked near his desk there. Most would have considered it old-fashioned, but it was handy to have around, and, Brad would have to admit, that old habits die hard.

That, too, was what he keeps trying to convince himself, every time he found himself staring at that one particular date, the gears in his mind already automatically calculating the days left until that day comes around, and then, just as automatically, made a list of arrangements that he had to do. Old habits die hard, he thought to himself, the older they are and the longer they had been in your life, the harder they refuse to go, as he went through that mental to-do list like some sort of a private, fanatic ritual that only he knows about.

10th of November. 

As per his schedule, Brad woke up on his usual time, after his alarm went off - once, always, without fail - and did his morning routine. But this time, this one, particular day, instead of just sending his usual morning greeting via text while he was doing his daily run on the treadmill, he included another three words, one that signifies the start of this yearly ritual, not just merely its cornerstone, but also its entire purpose.

_Happy birthday, Keith._

Then he went on with his day. It doesn’t matter that the replies would come somewhat later - Keith’s response _always_ comes late, usually near lunchtime, or sometimes even a little earlier than that - what matters is that he had sent the texts, this one particular day, with the inclusion of that extra message. 

The replies in question varies a bit, year by year, but the sentiment conveyed remained the same, and, indeed just like a ritual, it brought Brad a certain amount of comfort, and a peculiar sense of security. There, too, was another sort of ritual during his own birthday,which happened two months prior, but in a way - although he won’t admit it - this means more, to him.

The workday marches forward, and Brad carried himself along with it, just like he normally does, although he found himself, sometimes, checking the time on his phones, tablet, or the nearest clock, always, on this particular day, whenever it doesn’t happen on the weekend. Perhaps someone would notice, but he did that only briefly, and, he was certain, when others were not paying attention to him.

3:00 pm. He added another message to their current, daily, continuous communication (although he kept telling himself that it was because they were old friends, and they shared a mutual close friend, too):

_Remember: 6 pm sharp._

_If you forgot to eat lunch again because you fell asleep, I’ve sent you your missed lunch. Jacqueline should deliver it to you soon enough. Drink plenty of water._

_Don’t get drunk._

The other messages, aside from the foremost one with a specific time, were part of their usual routine, and, although Brad knows that the chances of Keith listening to the last three words were worse than zero by this point, it was part of habit.

When 5:15 pm rolls around, he was already back in his office, tidying up his things, and, by 5:30, he left, making his way to their dorm. Ten minutes later, Brad had taken out the special bottle that he had brought for, and saved for him. It was carefully wrapped, even if Keith always complained about how he doesn’t need any of that since they are going to drink it right away anyway.

Another ten minutes, and he was already changing out from his uniform, to his casuals.

By 6:00, he was already standing in front of Keith’s door in the West Sector’s section of dorms, after he sent him a text informing him that he was going to be there soon. He lifted his hand to knock, but, to his surprise, Keith already opened the door.

“Aah, perfect timing,” Keith said, with a pleased expression, and, without so much as a warning, he reached forward, grabbed his arm, and pulled him inside. Brad shot him a displeased look, and managed to close the door behind him after he was pulled into the room, but, as was part of the ritual that was their relationship, Keith doesn’t seem to care. 

“It’s already six. Didn’t I already told you that?”

Despite his apparent grumpiness, Brad did notice that Keith doesn’t seem to be as disheveled as usual, neither did he seem to be half-asleep, or in some stage of inebriation. As a matter of fact, he seemed to be…well, very much sober, and he wasn’t in uniform, either (or at least, what passes as “uniform” to him). 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But listen,” Keith casually pulls him along, to the sofa, and Brad placed the bottle of wine that he brought for him on the coffee table in front of it, as carefully as he could. “Why don’t we try something new, huh? Didn’t you get bored of going to the same old place…doing the same old thing, every year? Brad?”

“What do you mean, Keith?” The other man had one arm slung around his shoulders, and Brad reflexively shifted closer. “You don’t want to go out and drink with me? I thought that was what you keep pestering me about, every single day, despite knowing that I would do just that, on this particular day, every year without fail?”

“No, no, don’t get me wrong,” Keith waved his free hand about, shooting him an inscrutable look with his visible eye. The other one was lost under his mess of dirty blond hair, and the sight of him was like looking at a peculiar set of ruins, peeking from underneath all the foliage that had grown over it throughout the years. It lent him an unmistakably roguish look, and, despite all his nagging, Brad wouldn’t change that for anything. “Of course I want to drink with you…and I’m glad you’re here. But…it’s about time we do something a bit different, isn’t it? Don’t you want to have dinner, instead?”

Keith had already shifted again, both his arms now wrapped loosely around his shoulders, as if he was about to pull him into an embrace, or something more. And he did, while Brad was still processing this new, sudden information, pulling him in to land a soft kiss on his cheek, then one on his forehead - Keith was always so uncharacteristically careful whenever he had his glasses on, although that might be because he would lecture him if something were to happen to his glasses - and then pulls him in for an actual embrace, prompting Brad to put his face on his shoulder, even if only for a moment.

But a moment was all he needed. At least, that was what he keeps telling himself, too.

“…I don’t mind. Is that why you are finally wearing something proper?”

Keith groaned, and Brad saw his chance to tease him, although he kept his pokerface.

“On that note, where did you get this idea? Did someone put it into your head? Or had you finally caved, and read a book?”

“Ugh, no, no. Of course not. I would fall asleep. I just thought-“

“It’s Lily, isn’t it? You’ve been drinking with her?” 

Keith groaned, again, and Brad continued to stare him down, although he was suppressing the nearly overwhelming urge to smile, on the inside.

“Ye- No! Besides, so what if she did? Don’t pinch my side, I hate that. I’ll push you away if you do. It’s annoying. Just let me finish getting ready, alright? And no mention of your tailor, either. I don’t want to go there, this suit is fine as it is.”

For a moment, he just stared at him, and Keith scowled at him in return, but Brad felt a small smile forming on the corners of his lips.

“Hmm, fine. This time, I’ll let you do things your way, although we should still have a drink later. I did brought you your present, after all. Oh, but I am afraid I am rather underdressed for dinner…more importantly, do you know _where_ you want to go? Have you made the reservation, and the necessary arrangements?”

“First of all, we are NOT going to be late, so you don’t have to worry about that,” Keith released him from his arms, and Brad leans back comfortably on the sofa, watching as the other man rose from his seat. “The reservation is for a place in North Sector at 7 pm…an upscale restaurant. You’ll love it. And we have time to go back to your room. We could drink after that, here. Just leave the bottle there. No one’s going to touch it, or they will face the tyrant’s wrath. Aah…I really have to…tie my tie now, isn’t it…”

“I see that you have done your research and legwork this time, and I see that I have finally rubbed off on you, too, even if only a tiny bit,” Brad said, trying to suppress his widening, amused smile. “Well, it’s your birthday, so you should let me help you with your tie. And other things. I’ll get you ready in no time at all, and then it’s my turn.”

“When you say that, it sounds threatening,” Keith shot him a somewhat sour look, fingertips fumbling with the dark green fabric of his silk tie, and already failing. “How ‘bout this? It’s my birthday, so you should stop being a tyrant. Stop being the mentor leader, too…and a Hero. Just be you, Brad. I haven’t really seen you in a while now, except for times like this.”

“Then…how would you define me? Who am I to you, Keith?” The question slipped from his lips unbidden, as he rose from his own seat on the sofa, approaching the other man, his own fingertips already, reflexively, reaching for Keith’s unknotted tie. Keith didn’t push his hand away, but, to his surprise, he caught his hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Why ask the question that you already know the answer to?” Keith answered, with a light shrug of his shoulder, and there was a serious, blatantly candid look on his eye. “I already gave you the answer. But, if you want to be late for our dinner, I’ll repeat it again for you. You’re not two well-known diplomats’ eldest son, not an aspiring, diligent future Hero of New Million, not the Academy’s star student and teacher’s pet. Not even just Faith’s older brother. You’re not the mentor leader, not the Hero everyone looked up to and the one that girls dream about…not even our very own tyrant, ruling his own tiny kingdom with an iron fist.”

Brad could only stare at him, utterly captivated and perplexed, and he thought that his heart skipped a beat or two. Not simply because of Keith’s words and what they mean, no…but because of the serious, passionate look on his face. It was an expression rarely seen, but he always thought - even if he kept this thought, always, to himself - that it was beautiful.

“Yeah, not that Brad Beams. You’re just Brad, to me, you know?” Keith finally added, and laughed. “And you always will be. Now, not to really sound like you, but we really do need to get moving, or we’re gonna be late.”

Brad pulls him forward, closer, then, by his unknotted tie, with his free hand, and pressed a kiss on his lips. Softly, like the one Keith gave him on his cheek earlier, one that conveys not only his gratitude - for he was eternally grateful that he was here, too, and that they are still friends, or whatever it was that they were, not that he ever wanted to put a name on it, since the bond they shared and developed was greater than whatever relationship signifier anyone could slap on it - but also his feelings towards him. He felt Keith returning it, a little more passionately, and he smiled, against his lips, letting himself linger there for a moment, afterwards. 

“I don’t mind being late, only this time. I’m glad you’re here, too. Keith…happy birthday.”

The laugh that Keith gave him afterwards was so carefree, it reminded him of when they were younger, when things felt less heavier, and the world so much wider, nearly boundless, like the sky that they used to see together, on the rooftop of the Academy, along with Dino. Then he felt the brush of his lips, again, this time on the back of his hand, the one that Keith was still holding, and his other hand found Brad’s dark hair, caressing the top of his head with care. Afterwards, Keith’s arms once more snaked around his shoulders, pulling him closer for an embrace, and he buried his face on the crook of Brad’s neck. 

“It’s not getting easier, and I don’t think it ever will. But I’m still here, and you’re still here, too.”

_And things felt easier, lighter, with you around_ , was the unspoken sentiment, although it was something that they both shared, with every moment they spent together - even if they mostly spent it bickering, out there in front of the others and the rest of the world - every glance they gave the other, every kiss, embrace, and touch they shared, throughout the years. Brad wrapped his arms around him in return, holding him close.

Old habits certainly die hard, but he never wanted this one to go.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short drabble for Keith's birthday last month, based on a line of Will's, but...well. Might do a sequel if I get around to it, since Keith's Bday Frame skill means "unrequited love" (haha).
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading. Comments & suggestions are always welcome.


End file.
